


Me, in another life

by sleeplittlechild



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 18:01:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20313697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeplittlechild/pseuds/sleeplittlechild
Summary: Caleb has Jester check in with Essek about the Scourger. Jester finds out...something pretty interesting.





	Me, in another life

Uthodurn is an amicable place. They’ve not had to put up the bubble or camp in the trees since arriving, being able to find somewhere with a roof and doors to bed down. It allows their thoughts to wander back to Ghor Dranas. Specifically, Nott mentions Dairon, sitting alone in the Xhorhaus. Jester makes a joke about enjoying the Hot Tub, while Fjord wonders if she perhaps was sneaking through their rooms, trained Empire spy that she is.

“Jes, do you think you could...message her?” Beau, after a long moment of deliberating what the others were saying, asked. “Y’know, see what she’s up to? How she is? ...Make sure she’s not going through out stuff?”

“Yeah, yeah I can do that.” Jester clasped her hands in front of her, quirking her mouth this way and that as she mulled over her words. “Hi~ Dai~ron. We’re here…” Beau points to the room around them, trying both not to talk, but to encourage Jester to specify where “here” was. “City of elves and dwarves and stuff. How’re you? What’s your favorite thing in the Xhorhaus? Don’t touch our stuff, please.”

They all wait silently (but not very patiently) for Dairon to respond, if she cares to.

“She said she’s fine. Nobody’s come to the house. She’s just been hanging out beneath the tree most days. She said it’s the only place she feels safe. She hasn’t gone into our rooms, and she doesn’t plan to either. Yeah - she seems fine you guys. She’s probably just, like, super bored, but she’s doing fine.”

Beau and Fjord both visibly relax at the report. Beau lays out on the bed and Fjord rolls out his bedroll next to her (they’d all decided the ladies could sleep on the beds and the boys would take the floor.)

Caleb sits on the bed at Beau’s feet. He starts picking at his arms, looking at Jester without looking at her (like he usually does.) “Jester, can you cast that spell a second time tonight?”

“Yeah sure, Caleb. Who do you want me to talk to?”

“Could you, uh, send a message to Essek? About the voll...about the scourger?”

“Oh yeah!” Fjord exclaims.

Jester quirks her mouth again, back and forth and back and forth, thinking about it even longer than she did with Dairon. “Ok. Uhm...Hi, Essek. We’re here... in the elves and dwarves city.” Caduceus and Fjord both hide smiles. “How are things with the prisoner?” Her face scrunches up saying that, like the word doesn’t belong in her mouth. “Do you think... she could help end the war?” Caleb sighs with soft eyes. He wants this war to end, but too many schoolboy lessons push that wish off into the realm of impossibility.

Once again, they wait quietly and patiently. Nott pulls her bolts from her belt, counting and re-counting to make sure she has enough. Beau repositions herself that she can do a few crunches before bed without bothering anyone.

Jester’s loud gasp breaks the patience. Everyone sits straighter, eyes targeted on Jester.

“What’s wrong, Jester? What’d he say?” Beau asks.

Jester puffs out her cheeks, which are slowly turning an interesting shade of purple. “He said everything’s fine and super cool and the war is still going on - CalebcanItalktoyouforaminute?” The last words came out in a fast rush of air that only made sense after a minute.

If Caleb wasn’t on edge before, he was dancing on a knife’s point now. “Uhm...Uh, sure.” He pushed off the bed. As soon as he was standing, Jester grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room and down the hall. “Uh...Is everything...okay?”

Jester’s face, it’s a very expressive face. She’s a self-proclaimed very good liar, but they’ve all been able to tell between her genuine smiles and the ones she puts on. Whatever Essek told her has her opening and closing her mouth an interesting amount of times, and starting sentences before ending them abruptly. “What did Essek say, Jester?”

“I’m thinking!” Jester snaps and then immediately looks crest-fallen for it. She wrings her hands together over her corset. “Oh no...oh no oh no oh no...Where’s Frumpkin?”

Frumpkin appears on her shoulders in an instant, cat-form and thankfully furry. He purrs and butts his head against Jester’s horn. Jester gives him a scratch before grabbing him gently and depositing him in Caleb’s arms, hearing a little “mrrp” from the familiar through it all. Caleb reorients Frumpkin to hold him more properly than he had been given him, fingers automatically nuzzling a spot beneath Frumpkin’s chin. “There you go...just keep petting him. He always calms you down.”

“Frumpkin is...he is a good companion. But I am confused - why do I need calming down?” Caleb stepped closer. Jester, actually, turned away and took a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts. “Jester, you are worrying me.”

“Right, so, I talked to Essek - obviously, I mean, you were all there for that. And, and he said that they’ve been talking to the Scourger and she’s started talking back, right? And she said, y’know,” Jester pitched her voice lower to show she was talking like the Scourger now, even though they both knew it was nowhere close to an accurate impression. “I won’t give in to the Dynasty. I’m all tough and strong and super mean and you guys are all poopy heads.”

Caleb tilted his head. Normally Jester’s humorous insults would at least make him smile, but something in him said smiling wasn’t wholly appropriate. “I do not think a Vollstrecker would say ‘poopy head’.”

“I mean, she probably wouldn’t have said it  _ in common _ . But I hear you swear all the time - you guys probably have all sorts of names for poopy heads. I mean, there’s also poop head, dick head, shit head, your head is shaped like a ball sack - ”

“I don’t know if you’re rambling, or if you’re stalling.”

Jester’s mouth snapped shut, and she even looked a little chastised. “Well…” Jester brought her hands up to her chest, wringing one over the other. “I think, the other inquisitors got, like, really upset that she wasn’t telling them anything, so they used like...a Zone of Truth spell on her. And...They found out her name.”

Caleb’s petting of Frumpkin slowed down, his fingers buried in the bengal’s fur and just shifting back and forth. “What is it? Who is she?”

Jester bit her lip. Her heart was tight in her chest and she brought her hands up to make sure it was still beating. “Oh Caleb.”

“Jester, I have to know this. It’s very important - who is she?”

“...She says her name...is Adelina Ermendrud.”

Caleb stopped petting Frumpkin altogether. He stood stock still, as Jester had only seen done when he was getting angry, usually followed by some witty, cutting line. There was nothing - no glare, no following remark or demand. Caleb was just...frozen, was the best way for Jester to put it.

“I think...I think she’s your daughter, Caleb.”


End file.
